


Santa's Not So Little Helper

by Wolfsbride



Series: Christmas 2014 [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:42:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2660783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/pseuds/Wolfsbride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>M hates Christmas. And then she doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santa's Not So Little Helper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/gifts), [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/gifts).



> For Tayryn who wanted kissage. I hope this fits the bill.

M scowls as she enters the service lift that will take her up into MI6 proper. Someone has strung tinsel in loops and strands inside, and she bats a portion of it away from her face as she waits for the doors to close. She doesn’t hate Christmas; she just hates the way it turns her colleagues into sentimental idiots. There is a time and place for cheer, and the work place is not it. 

She keeps those feelings to herself though. Putting up with nonsense for a few weeks out of a year is a small price to pay for outstanding work the rest of the time. As long as no one comes near her with mistletoe, she’s content to let them do as they wish. 

She exits the lift to the sound of sleigh bells and Christmas music, and sighs. It looks like she’ll be spiking her eggnog again this year. She nods a greeting to Eve and Tanner on her way to her office. She ignores both that Eve has a piece of mistletoe tucked behind her ear and that Tanner is eyeing her thoughtfully. Maybe that will finally do the trick and she’ll be spared having to watch the two of them make cow eyes at each other for another year. 

She reaches her office, looking forward to the sanctuary it will provide. Upon opening the door, she realizes her day is not going to go according to plan. The plan had been to hide out doing paper work until everyone and their Christmas madness went home. But no. Now she has Bond, James Bond taking up her space. However, she’d be lying if she said it was an unpleasant surprise.

What is unpleasant is that for some reason, probably because annoying her is a hobby of his, Bond is wearing an elf’s hat. She supposes she should be glad he didn’t spring for the whole costume. Although, the thought of peeling him out of such an outfit, if he had, is a pleasant one indeed.

M crooks an eyebrow at him as she enters her office. She closes, and after a moment’s pause, locks the door behind her. “You’re a little over the height requirement for an elf, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, but I _am_ your helper.” Bond grins at her shamelessly.

“Does that make me Santa? I’m not sure I like that.” M tries to frown sternly, but she’s aware it’s a poor attempt. One of the downsides of bedding James Bond is that his ridiculousness is starting to carry over. Not that she’s complaining. The sex more than makes up for it.

Bond’s grin only widens as he crosses the space between them. “I think you’d make a very sexy Mrs Claus.” He looks down at her for a second before ducking his head. M tilts hers up in anticipation. She’s not disappointed. Bond’s lips brush against hers teasingly, then settles into a chaste press.

She’s about to pull back so she can voice her displeasure, when Bond’s tongue finally flicks against her lips. M sighs as she opens up for him, hands coming up to clutch at the front of his jacket. A few minutes pass as the two of them lazily explore each other’s mouths. 

M feels very mellow despite the tingles that glide over her body. She’s just thinking she could spend all day trading these sorts of kisses, when Bond draws away and pops a Santa hat on her head. M blinks but doesn’t have time to speak since Bond crowds her towards her desk. 

He sits in her chair – the cad – and then pulls her down onto his lap. “Here’s what I want for Christmas.”

M’s lips twitch and she reaches out to push his hat into a jauntier angle. If people could see him, they wouldn’t believe it. Her as well. Cold blooded Bond and Ice Queen M. A finely matched set. “Should I be worried that you seem to have a thing for fat old men?”

Bond huffs. “I have a thing for you,” he says primly. 

Chuckling, M decides to let him have his game. She can’t help but tease though. She gives him as serious a look as she can manage given the current situation, then says. “Honestly James! There's no way you even come close to being a good boy!” She makes sure her tone is a disapproving one.

Bond splutters, then, after composing himself, mutters. “That’s not what you said last week.” 

That startles a laugh out of her. She slumps against him as she lets the mirth roll through her. She’s so glad he kept fighting against her resistance, otherwise she would never have had this, would never have known this, and that would have been a very great shame indeed. 

When her giggles taper off, she lifts her head and smiles. “Yes. Well. There is that.”

Bond returns her smile, which softens his features. It reminds her of where they left off. Leaning forward, M initiates a kiss of her own. They slip back into the languid tongue curls from before. 

Humming into the kiss, M shifts slightly as she slides her hands around Bond’s neck. She can feel him getting hard, but he doesn’t seem in a hurry to press the issue. She strokes the nape of his neck for a few seconds before running her fingers over the outside edges of his ears. 

When he groans, she pulls back to look at him. It occurs to her that while she’s content to slowly burn, Bond may have other ideas. And really, even though she’s the boss, she can’t realistically spend all day locked in her office with him. At some point, someone is going to want to speak to her.

“So, young man. What would you like for Christmas?” She’s not sure how she manages to keep a straight face. Bond’s grin crinkles the corner of his eyes as well as curving his lips. It’s a good look, she thinks as she waits for his answer.

“Hm. On further reflection, I can’t say that there’s much else that I need. I have you, after all.”

M is once again amazed by the fact that Bond can get away with saying things that would make her stomach turn if they’d come from other people. Clearly she’s totally hopeless when it comes to him.

She tuts at him. “Well, you _have_ been a good boy.” She grins when that makes him rock his hips up. 

Bond pulls her back towards him and kisses her grin away. His hips continue their slow rolling motion, making her shiver. The position is awkward as she’s sitting sideways on his lap and not straddling him, but it doesn’t seem to matter as her body is thrumming with a gentle heat. 

They both breathe noisily through their noses as the kiss goes on and on, tongues slipping and sliding over and around each other. M’s arousal is such a gentle climb that she gasps into his mouth, surprise catching her off guard when Bond cups a breast and pinches an already peaked nipple. She moans and spreads her legs as much as she can when he slips his free hand under her skirt.

M pulls away and presses her face against Bond’s neck as a whimper escapes her. She’s still a bit too dry for a proper fingering but Bond is gently rubbing the tips of his fingers against her folds, teasing her clit out of hiding. She bites her lip as the combination of Bond’s hand between her legs and the sensation of his hard cock rubbing against her thigh tips her over the edge. She comes with a shudder.

She’s still catching her breath when Bond lets go of her breast and removes his hand from under her skirt. He holds her firmly as he chases his own climax, rutting sharply against her. M kisses his neck, then sucks hard on the patch of skin beneath her lips. Bond’s hands tighten almost to the point of causing her pain, then he comes with a low groan. 

“Fuck,” he mutters.

M chuckles, then nuzzles his neck. “Let’s save that for later, shall we?”

Laughing, Bond smoothes his hands over her back and tips her head away so he can kiss her once more.


End file.
